


What Dreams May Come

by CaramelShadows



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Age Difference, Brainwashing, Canon age Ginny with diary, Dark Magic, Dream Rape, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, F/M, Grooming, Minor appearances by Marcus Flint and Colin Creevey as convenient genitalia, Possessed Victim noncons Victim, Rape, Rapist Praising the Victim, Sex Addiction, Sex Magic, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-11-29 13:44:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11442108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaramelShadows/pseuds/CaramelShadows
Summary: It feels like sunlight, and Ginny will do anything to feel it again and push out the cold in her bones. Anything.





	What Dreams May Come

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LilyGilt (Yirry)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yirry/gifts).



> I loved your prompts so much, I really hope this lives up to them!

Everything was far away and vague, but the first thing Ginny was aware of was warmth. Something felt warm, enveloping her. Tom came into focus as a murmur at the edge of her consciousness.

“Good girl, Ginevra. Doesn’t this feel nice? You’re being just perfect for me.”

She shivered. His words ran over her like hands over her skin. Distantly, she heard a laugh, and the warmth increased, focusing between her legs, where her mother had scolded her for touching when she was small. It felt even better now than it had then. 

“It is good, isn’t it?” Tom’s voice wove through the feelings like silk and water and flame.

She was dreaming, she was sure, but it was such a lovely dream she wanted to snuggle down into it and never wake up. She felt so good. She groaned a little, stretching into the warm feeling, but she couldn’t move much. The laughing came again, and mingled with the warmth and the feeling of Tom’s presence until she felt like she was spinning around and around. Everything centered between her legs.

There was a rush of greater warmth, and she gasped as it shot down her nerves, sparkling out to her fingertips and toes. It retreated for a moment, then returned. There was more laughter, like water over stones in a stream on a glorious summer day, bright and bubbling. She felt like she was surrounding as well as being surrounded, like heat was pouring into her and becoming a part of her from the inside out. She felt like she was being filled with something greater than herself. She felt like she was flying. Nothing had ever been this wonderful.

  


Ginny woke up covered in sweat and panting. It was early enough that the other girls in her dorm weren’t awake, and she could slip out of her bed and quietly scourgify the sheets and go take a long shower. The warm water cascading down her skin felt good, the tentative touches she made between her legs felt even better, but it was still nothing like her dreams.

She went through the day snappish and irritable, but she’d been so withdrawn all year already that no one really noticed. Finally after Charms she couldn’t bear the aching empty coldness any longer, she took her bag and Tom’s diary and a quill to an abandoned classroom to scrawl into it desperately.

_Tom, I had a dream and it felt so good and I want it back. You were there._

The words sucked away into the page and it was blank for agonizingly long. She almost started crying in frustration before a line of ink appeared again. Every nerve in her body _yearned_. She couldn’t think straight. Tom had to be able to help, he just had to. He was so clever, surely-

_I can make it happen again, if you trust me._

_Of course I do_ , she wrote so hastily the ink splattered. _Always._ Anything.

 _Close your eyes and open your mind_ , he wrote, and she obeyed. She felt the familiar dizzy sideways tilt of him sliding in behind her eyes, and then a glorious rush of heat that would have made her knees buckle if she was standing.

“Good girl,” she heard him say. “Relax. We’ll make everything feel better.”

She felt her skin flush so much it felt like it was aflame, and then she couldn’t feel her skin anymore, she was drifting in sunlight and she was sunlight and everything was singing. She drifted for a while, and then suddenly she was speared with warmth to the core again. She felt like weeping, or screaming, or singing, it was such a relief, but all she heard herself do was whimper. The laughter spun into the sunlight again, and she spun into the sunlight, and everything was heat and motion and she felt so full she didn’t think she could bear to ever be empty again.

She pushed against the heat, trying to get more of it into her, trying to fill herself up so she could always feel like this. What did school matter, or brothers, or famous Harry Potter? None of them made her feel this good, nor ever could. 

“That’s my girl,” she heard Tom murmur. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, all she was was weeping yes.

She lost herself in the heat, and it stretched out for what could have been seconds or hours, and when she came back to herself she was in her bed and drenched in sweat again. She scourgified the bed and hurried to the shower again, hardly bothering to check if her dormmates were awake, and turned the hot water up as far as it would go. She stood under it, knowing it was nearly scalding her and not caring, and shoved her fingers up into herself, weeping at the pale imitation of what she wanted. Eventually the frantic motions of her fingers tore a peak of feeling from her, though it was nothing in comparison to what Tom had given her, and she collapsed to the floor of the shower, panting. She thought her knees were probably bruised.

  


Eventually the light changed, or a bell rang, or something alerted her to the passage of time. She dragged herself to her feet and turned off the shower, then wrapped herself in a towel and went back into the dorm, shutting the curtains around herself and the diary.

She didn’t want to go a whole day before knowing she could feel like that again.

 _Tom_ , she wrote, then paused, not sure what she wanted to ask.

_Yes, Ginny? Was that what you wanted?_

_Yes_ , she scrawled immediately. _Yes. I want more. When can I have it again?_

_You’ll have to go to class today, or people will be suspicious. But if you help me, you can have it again for a little while at lunch._

_What do I need to do?_ she wrote, without even thinking about it. Something in the back of her mind whispered that she should need to think about it, that she shouldn’t do anything anyone asked for this, but it was drowned out by the ache between her legs and the cold that felt like it had sunk into her bones. She needed that heat inside her again.

_Write a note that says what I tell you to, and owl it to who I tell you to._

_All right,_ she wrote. _What and who?_

_Tell Marcus Flint to meet you in the abandoned Charms classroom on the third floor at lunch._

She bit her lip. Marcus Flint? He was a seventh year, a Slytherin, built like a troll. _Why him?_

The words sucked away, but the diary remained blank. She stared at the page, waiting in increasing panic. What if Tom refused to help her any more for questioning him?

 _I’m sorry, I’ll do it, I’m sorry,_ she scribbled, then hurriedly got a sheet of parchment and wrote the note.

When she looked back at the diary, it said only _Good girl._ She felt a brief flush of warmth that almost drowned out the cold in her bones, and she knew that she couldn’t not do this when the ache came back twice as strong.

_Do I need to sign it?_

_Just with your initials._

She bit her lip - the only other G.W. she could think of in the school was her brother, it wasn’t very anonymous - but she _needed_ this. She scrawled her initials as illegibly as possible, feeling guiltily like she was cheating somehow, then hurried to get dressed. She snatched up her bookbag and tucked the diary into it while slipping on her shoes, and hurried off to the Owlery before breakfast, to make sure that the note would arrive that day.

Ginny arrived at the Owlery breathless, and tied the note onto the ankle of the first bird she saw. she half-ran down the stairs to the Great Hall for breakfast, then regretted it when she saw the nearly empty tables. It was _hours_ until lunch. She sat down at the end of a table and pulled out the diary. _Tom, do I really have to wait until lunch?_

 _I can’t manage anything earlier today,_ he wrote back. _I have to recover from last night. Tonight, if you help me, I can get enough power to do it more than once in a day, but right now even lunchtime will be a stretch._

_If I help you, I can have it tonight_ and _at lunch?_

_And before breakfast tomorrow._

_Promise?_ she wrote before thinking, then bit her lip. _I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be demanding if it’s so hard on you._

 _It’s all right,_ he wrote. _I’m glad I can make you happy, Ginny. I promise, if you help me, you can have it as often as you like._

She closed her eyes and imagined feeling like sunshine all the time. It was hard to focus on through the cold in her bones. She needed it. She wanted it. She couldn’t think of any reason why she shouldn’t do anything to get it, rather than feel this empty for the rest of her life.

 _I’ll do anything you like, Tom_ , she wrote. Someone else sat down on the same bench as her, and she hurriedly tucked the diary away and poured herself a mug of tea, jabbing her wand at it with a muttered spell to heat it as much as she dared and gulping it down before it could cool. It burned all the way down to her stomach, but the heat faded as quickly as her shower had.

  


The day dragged interminably until it was finally lunchtime. She was too nervous and yearning to eat, so she went straight to the classroom and perched nervously on a desk to wait. She was afraid that Flint would go down to eat first, and she was afraid that he wouldn't. Why did it have to be Marcus Flint? 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the door banging open to reveal the boy in question’s hulking frame. He glanced around and saw her small frame on a desk, her skirt riding up her thigh and grinned as he closed the door behind him and locked it with a snap of his wand. He stepped towards her and her vision went fuzzy. Everything was distant and time sped and slowed in confusing dollops. Flint was across the room, and then he was in front of her.

His hands were on her, and she should feel the heat like brands, but her skin crawled at the look on his face. But his hands were under his shirt, and time slid, and her knickers were gone and her skirt around her waist, and this wasn’t what she wanted, his horrible grin full of crooked teeth, and she started to try to pull away, but she couldn’t move, and time skipped again, and his pants were gone and his cock was huge and she was immobile and panicking -

And then her mind was washed away in a wave of heat and she groaned as warmth speared into her core, burning out the ice in her bones. She couldn't think, she was only need. The heat built and built, pouring into her and filling every inch of her body, until it exploded, sparkling down to her fingers, and the world went white. 

When she came back to herself, she was lying in an uncomfortable heap on the classroom floor, alone. Her thighs were wet and sticky, but warm. Ginny sat up and covered her face with her hands, tears leaking out between her fingers. It has been what Tom promised, had felt just as good, but the look on Flint’s face - she shuddered. 

Her book bag was next to her. 

_Does it have to be like that, Tom?_

_Like what?_

_Like he was laughing at me._

_We can do it differently tonight. You can control it. You can be the one laughing._

_And it'll feel the same?_

_Even better. You just have to do what I tell you. I'm sorry about Marcus, he was all I could manage at short notice._

His words rang false, but she wanted to believe him. _Anything you say, Tom._

 _Good girl,_ he wrote, and there was a flash of warmth all through her. 

  


The day dragged by, and Ginny felt her cheeks heat whenever a Slytherin glanced at her, but at last classes were over and she was in the Great Hall for dinner. She sat at the very end of a table and slipped out the diary. 

Without her even having to ask a question, Tom had written instructions for her. _Pick a boy with no friends to miss him,_ the diary said. _Follow him towards the common room and lure him into an empty classroom on the fourth floor. Make sure no one sees you together. When you get there, lock and silence the door with colloportus and bind him with incarcerous._

She tucked the diary away again and picked at her food. An idea struck her and she flicked her wand under the table at Colin Creevey with a spell she'd found to use on Ron, a spell that made someone’s hunger disappear. Sure enough, Colin pushed away his plate, and after a few bored minutes of sipping at his pumpkin juice, got up to leave the hall. 

Ginny ducked out a different door and followed him up until they reached the fourth floor, at which point she decided there was an easier way than luring him in. She sealed his mouth shut with a whispered spell, then bound him and floated him into the room. She left him lying in the floor, eyes rolling around in panic, and pulled out her diary to consult Tom. 

_I got a boy no one will miss,_ she wrote. _He's bound and silenced and I sealed the room. What now?_

 _Undress him,_ Tom wrote. _Get his cock hard and use it. You have the power over him. I can take power from him to give you the heat, and when you're done, I can obliviate him for you so he won't remember a thing. No one will know about this but us, and no one will be able to control it but you._

She hesitated, biting her lip - just strip him and put his cock in her?

 _You don't need to feel self conscious, Ginny,_ Tom wrote. _No one will ever know this happened but us. Let me in, and we'll do it together._

Her bones ached with ice, and she shivered, then set her chin. She deserved this, and if Colin wouldn't even remember it, there was no sense caring. She closed her eyes and welcomed Tom into her head, then stripped off her knickers and dropped them on a chair. Colin stared, eyes wide. She knelt over him and pulled his robes up out of the way, disentangling then from the ropes, then unceremoniously yanked down his pants. 

His cock was so small compared to Flint’s that she paused. _Tom, it's so small. Will this work?_ She asked the presence in her head. 

_It might not be quite as intense, but it'll also be different because you're controlling it. Next time you can get someone older with a larger… endowment, and it'll be even better._

She nodded. That made sense. The cock was also only half hard, and she poked it experimentally. It stiffened a little at the touch, and she rubbed at it until it swelled stiff and stood up straight. 

She could feel her thighs sliding wetly against each other now at the prospect of the heat, and she ached between her legs so badly she couldn't wait another minute. She shifted forward until she was over his little cock and used one hand to align it into her, blushing a little as she had to look at the folds between her legs to do it, but with a little adjustment it slid in and she felt an incredible rush of heat and power down to her fingertips. 

She threw her head back, laughing. She felt like her skin was sparkling, like there were fireworks between her legs, like liquid sunlight was pouring into her. It was even better than before. Everything was light and heat and she rode it to a glorious peak like an explosion of color and molten honey. 

She came back to herself, panting and dripping sweat. Colin was under her still staring, still looking baffled and terrified, and she conjured a cloth over his face with a scornful flick of her wand. 

_Did you get what you needed, Tom?_ She asked the presence in her head. 

_I did. You did perfectly._ His voice curled through her head like fingers in her hair and she shivered pleasantly. _If I stay in your head using what we got from him, I can keep you from getting so cold._

 _Yes, please,_ she said, without even pausing to think about it, and there was a tingling in her scalp and her skin flushed. 

_Clean yourself and him up and we'll obliviate him and send him on his way,_ Tom murmured, like the caress of a lover in her head, and she smiled again and stood up. A quick scourgify got her clean enough to put her knickers back on, though she wanted a proper shower when she got back to her room. 

Colin watched her, eyes wild, as she carelessly scourgified his useful little cock and pulled his pants back up. 

Tom slipped up behind her then, like arms gently holding hers, and pointed her wand at him and whispered _Obliviate_. Colin’s eyes unfocused. Tom vanished the ropes and straightened his robes with another flick of his wand and then spoke again. 

“You tripped on the stairs on your way to the dorms. When you get back to the tower, you will go straight to bed. You don't remember interacting with Ginny at all today.”

Tom floated him out into the hallway in a heap at the top on the stairs. They watched in silence as he came to himself and scrambled to his feet and ran off towards Gryffindor. 

_I’ll need at least one a day to keep you warm, but with you controlling them, you can have it as often as you like,_ Tom said.

Ginny smiled, and luxuriated in the feeling of sunlight under her skin.


End file.
